Years Changed
by Lunamayn
Summary: Set in the 2k3 universe. Future one shots. Mainly dark. A look into what I think will happen to the turtles and some SAINW based stories.
1. Fifteen Years Later

Yes, it has been fifteen years, but Mikey was never one to follow directions. He might have grown older, but Michelangelo refused to grow up. His humor was more refined, less childish, but it was annoying humor none the less. He had learned how to balance his life, focusing in battle, and relaxing when he was not. His skills as a warrior had surpassed his brother by far, yet he was still the child. The baby that they all knew and loved. When he had been young, Michelangelo had been in constant need of rescue by his brothers, and now he was the one doing the rescuing. He didn't boast about it either, just took the thanks and let the ordeal slip from his shoulders. No one ever thought of it, and Mikey knew as long as he didn't bring it into the light, his innocence would remain in their eyes.

Fifteen years could not change Donatello's work method. He still tirelessly worked, slaving over the inventions his brothers all enjoyed. The little gadgets and gizmos he cooked up on a regular basis to sustain his brothers ever growing hunger for a stress relief. His work method did not change, but he did. He had become obsessed with pleasing those around him. Their approval was something he felt he would die without. With his little creations, Donatello became more and more sure that he could stop death. That he could prevent all of their demises, preserving the love they all shared. He was a man obsessed. His brothers seemed not to care though, as long as he kept giving them new trinkets to play with. Donatello feared the day they realized he had lost the only thing they needed him for, his mind.

When he had been young, Raphael had been a hot head. An angry ball of fire that could take his opponents down without a problem. He still could of course even after 15 years , and did so at his leisure. He roamed the streets for punks to take down, something they had once called noble. The sickening truth that Raph held would make his brothers hate him, see him for who he really was. A monster, but he had grown fond of the feeling of bones snapping beneath his fist. He hated how his mind worked, the rage had finally consumed him. The quarrels he had once had with Leo were gone. They had evaporated like the last ounce of self control he had. Raphael felt himself a vigilante now, no longer the righteous hero his brothers had once made him out to be. He was no better then the Shredder, but Raphael no longer cared. He might have hated what he had become, but the sheer power he commanded hid the pain well.

Leonardo had grown tired. He had spent fifteen years trying to keep his brothers together. Fifteen years of watching each of them plunge into a pit of madness and despair. His once soft brown eyes were now cold, harboring hate for his brothers. They had done this to him, forced him to be there pathetic leader. The face that stared at him in the mirrors reminded him that he was old now, but with age came wisdom. Vengeful wisdom. A burning need to cut himself free of these fools and go his own separate way. He only stayed to make sure Raph didn't go off on a murderous spree of joy, that Don stayed sane enough to be a coherent being, and Mikey kept himself out of harms way. Raph couldn't hide the pure animistic rage that burned in his amber eyes, Don couldn't keep the fact that he was slowly losing his mind, and if Mikey was hiding something he hid it well. Leo couldn't help but smile inside, he always did.

* * *

This was a dark little one shot I did. I just had a random thought about what will they be like in 15 years? Welp, from the darkest place of my imagination, here it is.


	2. The End of an Era

Mikey gasped for air. His hardened blue eyes snapped open. He was carefully tucked into the gnarled roots of a barren tree. Its bark was peeled and ancient. He gently pushed himself up, his only arm strengthened from years of being alone.

Michelangelo turned to face behind him. His wrinkled eyes widening in shock as he took in the view. The city of New York lay in waste. His home, the only place he had ever lived, destroyed. Nearly burnt to the ground. Only work camps and prisons still stood, many of the warehouses used as arsenal storage.

What really caught his eye was the Shredders Tower. It had been the only skyscrapper standing for over ten years. Mike had forgotten when it happened, because compared to everything else, that was nothing.

The old turtle gave a nod of satisfaction, he had accomplished what he had been born to do. The weight of the waking worlds torment lifted from his broad and scarred shoulders.

He spun to face what came next. The light that shone before him was blinding, but whispered a lullaby of forever peace. Thirty years ago he would have eagerly stepped forward, but now he was old and wise. He wasn't the same Michelangelo he had been.

He had grown up, lost his charm and humor, and had even given up on smiling. The orange banded turtle embraced a brash side of himself he didn't know he had. He chose not to see the light, blinded himself to the good in the world, drowned his happiness in a sickly sorrow.

No matter how foolish he thought it, he knew it was the best. In the world behind him, he needed to be a grown up and have a strong head on his shoulders. It was practically required. It was as if the gleam of a smile was honing signal for sorrow and pain.

And it wasn't like he had a choice. When they had come home, broken and beaten, Leo and Raph had continued their fight. Raphs anger boiled over, and because he had lost an eye in battle, he found it fitting Leo be blind. Michelangelo witnessed one brother maim the other, forever blacking out his world.

They had left him then, walking in opposite directions. Forcing their baby brother to make his choice. He had reached out, praying one would look behind and see the tears pouring down his young face. They didn't. They left him to rot in an empty home with no father and no brother to comfort him.

He could still feel the silent tears, the ones nobody would ever see rolling down his sea green cheeks, the choking sobs of apologies muttered in pure torment, the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue.

If they had stayed, he might still have his arm. The ghostly left arm he could still feel, but could not use. He would often awake in panic, his nightmare making him relive the experience over and over again. Laying in a Foot lab, the scientists smirking in sadistic glee.

They had asked him how he worked. What made him tick. He had sat there in his own resentment, refusing to tell them a thing. It didn't matter if he talked, they still would've cut him open and seen for themselves. Cutting off his arm was a mistake, they had merely miscalculated the power of their newest saw. Too bad. What was done was done.

Mike turned to face the living world one last time, his eager smile finally returning after a long period of hibernation. Blessing the wasteland behind him with one final smirk. He was no longer needed in that world, and he had a feeling that whatever was to come was going to be even more wonderful than the world he was leaving behind.

The small branch, the one that leaned in the light was whole. Beautiful green leaves of promise hung there, a shadow of his trusty cat Klunk meandered around, and in the distance he was sure he could see him. They were all signs. He was needed elsewhere.

His orange mask gazed one final time before he spun on the balls of his feet, and he let the light envelop him permanently. A blissful silence washed over him, and Hamato Michelangelo never looked back. He didn't need to.

_I'm on the edge of existence, I'm finally free. The waking worlds touch is losing me. I'll miss the two brothers I'm leaving behind, but something tells me I'll see them in time. I think I see him now, the brother lost long ago, he wants me to come closer, to bring me home._


	3. Growth Spurt

He could always remember being the shortest of his brothers. Of course, he didn't really mind. It highlighted his baby brother charm. He knew just how to pull himself out of trouble, and his sweet blue eyes and shorter stature always worked in his favor. Being the cute on rocked!

Of course, he wasn't sixteen anymore. He was nearly nineteen, and as he made his way home he knew so much had changed. He was, and always would be, the jokester. Nothing could quench his humor, not even the darkest day could put a damper on his joy.

Yet, his year with the ancient one had not been wasted. Raph had gone. Don had gone too. They each came back stronger, mentally and physically. Master Splinter had sent him last. He and his brothers were finally all together again. It could finally go back to the way it once was.

Raph had come back calmer, less aggravated. He was more adept. Raphs company was much more enjoyable, but if Mikey tried hard enough he still got the reaction he loved so. Don came back with more confidence. He didn't take any guff from anyone. Yet, Mikey still had his talking partenter. Don still understood and helped in anyway that he could.

He wasn't sure how much he had changed, but as he passed underneath the main entrance he knew it was a lot. Sure, he had grown up, but the way his brothers ogled him made him nervous. They'd all stopped mid greet to get a good look at him.

"So, Mikey?" Raph whistled, "You've grown little, er buddy."

"Yea, Mike. Not so little anymore, eh?" Leo gave him a nudge in the ribs. Mikeys jaw nearly hit the ground, he was at least two heads taller than Leo. He gave a nervous gulp and nodded. This was a new development.

"Jeez Mikey! You're taller than me!" Don marveled as he stood up to his little brother, "I barely reach your beak!"

"Yea! Shortie finally had his growth spurt. Pretty late if you ask me." Raph replaced Don, his eyes darting up to meet Mikeys.

"Guess you're not our little brother anymore, right?" The trio joked. As they all turned and left, they didn't see the tears in the youngest eyes. His brothers changes hadn't been life changing, his was.

For if their was one thing Mikey loved more than joking and comics, it was being the little brother.

* * *

Just an idea I had. I always thought Mikey was biologically the youngest, so at nineteen I could see him still having the body of a fifteen year old due to his specific mutation. I might do this with the others if I can find a good angle for the others.


End file.
